


The Hero

by karuvapatta



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Time, M/M, Superman AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 10:43:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9816401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karuvapatta/pseuds/karuvapatta
Summary: One can't be everywhere at once, and Damen has no intention of leaving. A Superman AU.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Laurent is a cross between Lois Lane and Lex Luthor. Also, thanks to Diana, he's significantly less evil than originally planned.
> 
> I'm not very familiar with any of the Superman movies. Or comics. Or anything, really :D I just needed a silly AU to break me out of writer's block.

The apartment was spacious enough to raise eyebrows, and Damen found the bed a particularly lavish indulgence. But Laurent, by his own admission, came from money.

One of the walls had caught his attention when he first set foot here, but he had not the chance to examine it carefully. Only a few hours ago, he could focus on nothing but Laurent’s icy blue eyes, silky yellow hair, and lovely mouth, demanding all Damen had to offer. But now, with Laurent asleep, he was going to give in to curiosity.

It was a display. Photos, newspaper clippings, printed reports, interviews, tweets. Connecting them was a length of red string, arranged with a very Laurent-like precision. In truth, it wasn’t that difficult to find patterns in this chaos of information.

And it was all about Superman.

Laurent had made quite a name for himself as the number one enemy of all things Superman. He was always ready to cite failures, botched operations, numbers. Disasters, man-made and natural, where people were left to fend for themselves. Tensions in the political and financial areas caused by Superman’s existence. And, when he needed more exposure or a trending hashtag, Superman’s place in popular culture.

But this—

“I didn’t know people actually made those,” Damen said, out-loud.

Laurent’s bare feet made almost no sound as he walked. He had wrapped himself in a blanket, his hair mused, face still soft with sleep.

“It’s more of an art project than anything else,” he said. “And it was fun to make.”

“Maybe I should try,” Damen said wryly.

He recognized the names and places. The pictures—some of the pictures were painful to look at.

“A number of publishing houses approached me with a book deal,” Laurent said, smug. “Back in college I used to think I’d have to fight for those.”

“Your picture will look great on the cover,” Damen said.

“That, too, has been mentioned,” Laurent said.

Damen pondered the display and realized that no, he wasn’t wrong. One thing was missing. One obvious tragedy that Laurent seldom brought up.

“You really believe that?” Damen asked. “That the world would be better off without him?”

“Yes,” Laurent said. “I do.”

His voice, unspeakably lovely even when spewing profanities, was cold as ice. Everything about Laurent was alluring in some way, even back when they first met and Laurent approached him with hatred and disdain. Their gradual spiral into this, into Laurent’s bed, had been unavoidable from the start. Perhaps this was why Laurent disliked him so.

Damen wondered briefly where they’d go from here. He still wasn’t sated, not even with the taste of Laurent on his tongue and the soft sounds of Laurent’s pleasure still echoing in his ears.

“I can tell you’re distracted,” Laurent told him flatly. “Do you really want to talk about this right now? Yes, I stand by everything I said. No, we don’t need an overpowered maniac to dictate our sense of morality. No, it doesn’t do anybody any favours, waiting around to be rescued.”

“He saves people,” Damen said, even though every word and picture before him was a testament otherwise.

“Sometimes. Sometimes he doesn’t. His powers fail. His timing fails. People die. And yet we build him monuments and sing our praises. Does this sound reasonable to you?”

“Maybe not,” Damen said.

Laurent’s posture was impeccable, his speech measured and determined. If anyone was capable of tearing down the cult of Superman, it had to be him. His willpower and the hatred that fuelled him were magnetic.

In Laurent’s bedroom there were different pictures: a young man in the prime of his life, hugging a smiling boy, similarities between them obvious. The joy and love there were probably a much more pleasant image to fall asleep to than this wall.

Auguste. Damen wasn’t even sure which of these disasters killed him. He had considered finding out, but it would be an invasion of Laurent’s privacy.

Somewhere out there, at this very moment, people were dying. From floods, fires, traffic accidents, starvation. Murdered, sick, suicidal – they died, lungs filled with smoke or water, devoured by flames, crushed, mutilated… Helpless, awaiting help that would not come. Because Superman wasn’t there.

A touch on his forearm brought him back. Laurent’s expression softened, his blue eyes warm. Lips forming Damen’s name.

“Come back to bed,” he said.

Damen traced the shape of his cheek. It was impossible not to smile, with Laurent looking up at him, a little shy. Getting to know him like this, the person hidden behind the icy façade and cutting remarks – it had taken Damen’s breath away. It still did.

He would never get tired of this. Of kissing Laurent, running his hands through Laurent’s hair, feeling the lithe body pressed flush against his own. They had spent only one night together, and Damen was already craving a thousand more.

The blanket slipped from Laurent’s pale shoulders, his hands too busy exploring Damen’s body to hold it in place. In public, he never let anyone see him in any way other than buttoned up and starched to perfection, in long sleeves and turtle necks. But he gave Damen this. His own vulnerabilities, laid bare.

Damen intended to treasure them.


End file.
